


once more, with feeling

by livtontea



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, No Beta, No Incest, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, They're friends okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea
Summary: He raises his fist—pale, stark against the backdrop of the dark—but before he can knock, the hinges creak, and the door swings open, and Ben is saying, whispering, "Come in."
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves
Comments: 19
Kudos: 104





	once more, with feeling

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short little thing based off an ask on tumblr! enjoy :)

BEFORE

He's wearing socks.

They're the standard uniform knee-highs, navy blue and itching at his legs. Normally, his feet would be sticking against the floor. His tiptoeing, no matter how light, would leave ugly slapping noises trailing through the dark hallway. But not tonight—tonight, Five's wearing socks.

His room isn't far from Ben's. They're consecutive, one after the other, Five then Six, and the former has been doing this for…

A long time.

He could just jump to Ben's room, an outsider would say—that's his whole… thing, isn't it? And it is, it is, but Five's training is… tiring. Draining, sapping. He doesn't have it left in him to make that jump, and he fears, on nights like this, when the moon is slipping in through cracks between curtains and his muscles cramp with exertion, that maybe—maybe…

Maybe he'll slip away into the cracks between _here_ and _there,_ and won't be able to find his way out.

Five shakes himself out of his thoughts. He's at Ben's door, the unassuming wood of it black in the night. He raises his fist—pale, stark against the backdrop of the dark—but before he can knock, the hinges creak, and the door swings open, and Ben is saying, whispering, "Come in."

Five does.

He slips into the room like an oil spill dripping down into the gutter. Ben is already shutting the door behind him, and there's no lock, so it remains carefully closed. Five hovers by his brother's bed, almost unwilling to crease the blankets. Ben waves at him—go on, sit down—and he does, gingerly sitting on the end.

Ben sits opposite Five, taking his pillow in his hands and hugging it to his chest. His fingers dig into the fabric, leaving grooves to crisscross the surface.

"Hey."

"Hey." Five takes note of Ben's pinched expression. "Mission went okay?"

"You were there," says Ben, almost answering.

"I meant," says Five, wetting his lips because suddenly his mouth is dry, "for you? Did it go… okay?"

Ben twists the corner of his pillow between his fingers. "...Of course it did."

"Ben." Five leans forward, trying to catch his eye. "Ben, are…" He trails off. He doesn't know how to find the right words, even after all this time. "Are you, okay?" His voice is hesitant, carefully, precisely prodding at Ben's seawater shell.

Ben sighs. He digs his face into the pillow, his fingers clenching and flexing.

"I guess," he says. "I'm not… Yeah. I'm okay."

Five lets it go. There's not much else he can do. He could keep pushing, of course, saying that it's okay that you're not okay, why would you be okay, you rip yourself apart and piece yourself together regularly, none of us are okay, so why would you be? I know you're not okay, and that's… okay.

Instead, he reaches into his pajama pocket.

"Look."

Ben raises his head, eyeing what Five has placed on the sheets.

"Are those... cards?"

Five nods. "Yeah. I found them on a mission."

Ben prods at them with a careful finger. "You stole these?"

"I didn't," corrects Five. "They were just, they were on the floor, and nobody was going to pick them up anyway. So I took them. It's fine." He remembers it vividly, spotting the deck on the ground, feeling nobody's eyes on him, stepping over and slipping it into his pocket without a second thought.

"Cool," breathes Ben. "Can we play?"

"Play what?"

"I don't know." Ben pulls open the box, making sure to not rip the flimsy cardboard, fingers shying away from where the sides are splashed in something dark and no longer sticky. The playing cards smell like iron. "Do you know any games?"

Five shakes his head. He doesn't have— He's not allowed— He doesn't.

"It's okay," says Ben, and tries to shuffle the deck. The cards fall from his hands. "We can make something up."

They spend their time making up a card game and laughing in the dark, as quiet as they can be. When time comes for Five to leave, he leaves the cards behind, sneaking back to his own bed with empty pockets and the remains of a smile on his face.

AFTER

Klaus winks at the pair, making a sex joke without saying anything, but they both know their brother enough to read between the lines of his "Ta-ta!" and fingers wiggling. He disappears behind the door, letting it fall shut behind him.

Five and Ben stare at each other. Ben is blue, hovering by his bed. Five doesn't know what to say. How do you talk to your brother, like this? When you haven't seen him in years—when you've been gone for an entire lifetime. He coughs and looks away.

"We should really get locks," he says.

Ben laughs, a quick, short sound that barely lasts a moment. "What?"

"The doors. They still don't have any locks. It's inconvenient, probably."

"We don't live here anymore, though," points out Ben. "We don't really need locks."

"I guess so," says Five, and shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

They lapse into silence. This is the first time he has an opportunity to look at his brother, to really look at him, thinks Five. Before, it was screaming and panic, trying to fix things. Now, he stands in front of him and traces him with his eyes.

Ben's tall, now, or… then. Taller than Five. He has a hoodie and a leather jacket, and where would he have even gotten those? Five doesn't know, and he doesn't ask. Ben is looking at him too. Suddenly he feels awkward. Ben's room has barely changed since their nights of sitting together and talking about nothing at all.

"Do you wanna see something?" says Ben.

Five nods. "Sure."

Ben ducks down to the floor, sticking his hand beneath his bed. He rummages around for a moment before surfacing with a triumphant grin and something clutched in his hand.

"Is that…?"

"Yeah. Look."

The blood-stained cards fall all over the dusty bedspread.

"You kept them?" Five says, stating the obvious. "Why?"

Ben shrugs, fiddling with the cardboard just like he did so long ago. His fingers graze the dull brown stains on the side. "Yeah. 'Course I did."

"Oh," says Five. And his voice comes out choked, and shit, he might cry. Ben smiles at him and sits on the bed. He pats the space beside him. "Come sit," he says.

Five does.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are greatly appreciated! you can find me on my tumblr @seven-misfits, thanks for reading!


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